


The Train After The Accident

by whalesfloatinginthesky



Series: Fantasy Hetalia AUs [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: BROOO, Giripan - Freeform, Hetalia, M/M, To be honest, and like the actual backstory for this is quite deep ah, aph giripan, it's not the best thing I have ever written but like I kinda like it anyway, most random shit I spewed into the interwebs, oh well, so ..., there's a nice enough shot of angst at the end there just because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 09:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13784826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalesfloatinginthesky/pseuds/whalesfloatinginthesky
Summary: Japan (Kiku) ended up in an accident that seemed to cost him everything, even the happiness in his life and reality. He wanted to remember but it's just going to hurt quite a bit along the way, especially with Greece (Heracles).





	The Train After The Accident

“Hey, dude, are you okay?” A voice asked casually, snapping him awake.

 

When he opened his eyes to examine his surroundings, his jaw subconsciously dropped and hung freely. He remembered his expression and limbs were still, rigid and frozen in time as his eyes widened out of fear. Nothing coherent in complete sentences, at least was said as he struggled to find himself and his composition in the spinning world, the empty space that he viewed; still, whatever that could be understood by human beings were simply made up of two main two languages: Japanese and English; small tears of fear began to spring in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head while his hands grabbed onto the corners of his head, his fingers digging deep into his scalp as if to rip out his black hair. As he cried and wept, his cheeks burned a brilliant red, much to the boy’s naturalistic and somewhat childish amusement as he cocked his head to the side while chuckling softly to himself jokingly. He lightly brushed his fingertips over his bottom lip that was plump and stuck out (probably since it was swelling long before his eyes closed and it never got better), only to feel a tingling and pulsing sensation as he moved over his lips. He continued to look up at the man crouching down in front of him with confusion glimmering in his eyes as he attempted to analyse his boyish features that were bright and golden like sunshine. Hesitantly, with a light-hearted shrug, the boyish man smiled and sat down cross-legged as he sat up while rubbing his throbbing temples. The boy was clad in a plain white silk dress shirt that moved and creased along with his muscular frame with a pair of slightly looser jeans that were ripped at his knees. His strawberry blonde hair was neatly parted, albeit a loose strand was having fun in its lonesome, defying gravity to act felt convey his emotions. Above his pocket, there was a black name tag that read, “HELLO I AM -- YOUR HERO -- HAPPY TO SERVE YOU!” Somehow, reading that gave him a sense of relief as a smile appeared on his face as his cheeks cooled down and returned to their original pale shade.

 

“Hero… My, my… What a strange and unusual name for a human being,” he remarked humorously, his voice soft and raspy from exhaustion. The boy laughed gently in return, ruffling his black hair in playful revenge as if he was a precious pet and shrugged his shoulders once again. With a warm grin, “Hero” spoke gently like a friend, making an effort to strongly articulate his words slowly since he knew this one was not a native English speaker, “Nah, dude, the name’s actually Alfred -- Alfred F. Jones. Are you Kiku Honda? Right? I mean I am assigned to someone with that name and I’m here, so…” His eyes shot up simply when the fact that he lacked any and all memory of what happened finally struck him. It was like a lightning bolt striking down from above and then electrocuting the living daylight out of him, stripping him of his memories and context clues. He was petrified, to say the least, he felt his body being glued and tied down, constructing and preventing him from moving, even just a tad bit for his lungs to move to take a single breath. Kiku began to struggle again, trashing his limbs about despite the boy’s strong grip and restraints; his features immediately contorted to look like someone who sucked on a sharp lemon peel and regretted it in an instant. “Yo, yo dude, calm down! You’ll give me a-a million injuries like this! Chill out, okay?” he begged rather desperately, his body trembling with fear as he continued to react strongly with tears springing to his eyes. Even though he begged, his voice was calm and experienced, considering his baby face that radiated a naive passion and a naive urge to pursue his own dreams. Upon calming down, his slender arms eventually found their way to wrap around his the base of both his kneecaps, pulling his legs closer together and stretching them. His brown eyes narrowed and relaxed, blinking a few more times to let the rest of his tears flow down along his round face before lifting his head up again to look at him.

 

“Geez… Dude… Are you okay?” Alfred asked, straightening himself out with a forced smile.

 

Kiku continued to look at him in confusion but this time, with a slight sense of relief as he found a new sense of trust mounting up inside of his heart as it slowed down to normalcy. Still, a single tear rolled down his cheek as he rubbed his throbbing Temples while maintaining eye contact with Alfred. “Alfred…” He muttered his name in a daze, hoping that each time he repeated that name, his pronunciation would be better. As he spoke, his expression empty and helpless. Alfred smiled brightly at the sound of that, as his playful and cheerful grin would stretch from ear to ear. Slender laugh lines formed on his face as his smile grew wider and brighter. He lifted his head up and glanced around the space they were in like a curious child in a candy store. And with that, all of a sudden, the space seemed clearer -- from a sloppy and bare black box, it transformed to materialise and form a scene of minimal familiarity, leaving behind a sweet feeling in his stomach pit. It was a train cabin. Well, to put it simply, it was an abandoned train cabin that looked too pretty and royal to be true. Kiku felt a soft mattress underneath his legs, just beneath the soft fabric of his kimono, completed with thick silk blankets that were cream colour atop of a royal blue bed sheet that was thick and had its own unique texture. The pillows were a smooth cream (much like the blankets) but they had simplistic golden designs of an urban cityscape that resembled those of the streets that he grew up in, embroidered on the edges of the pillow. The walls were white as well, with the exceptions of photos and paintings of ambiguous people as well as a some plants hanging in the air that were far from beautiful, alive and thriving and much closer to death with its yellowed leaves and brown spots on whatever leaves that were still green. In addition, the room was well lit with small, square ceiling lights and fluorescent night lamps by both of the nightstands, one on each side of the bed. Other than the bed and an oak closet next to it, there were no other pieces of furniture; no windows, no free things, no doors, nothing. There was just the unstable juddering of the ground and a beautiful interior design that rendered him speechless .

 

“Alfred… May I ask to know who you are?” Kiku mumbled, much to Alfred’s surprise but he took it gracefully with a cocky smile and a nervous posture.

 

“Yeah… Sure… I am well… I am your dream master, at least for now, Honda sir, I look after your dreams and I decide whether or not you should remember those dreams for your actual life. Your previous dream master (the name was Arthur Kirkland -- dreadful dickhead) kinda fell off the train a little so they forced me be your dream master until he gets better, or at least, is able to stop using curses once every three minutes. It’s been over a year, damn it,” Alfred explained, his fists clenched together in a tight ball as he clenched on his lower jaw, preventing his rage from exploding like a volcano. Kiku chuckled, as an act to relieve tension building up in his nerves and veins; despite his attempts to use humour, fear and anxiety still remained long enough to cloud his thoughts and disrupt his train of thoughts. Kiku sighed and kept his gaze low, his heart palpitating as his emotions were strapped to an intense roller coaster ride that he could never tear himself away from. He rubbed his head, in an attempt to relieve himself of the pain he caused himself.

 

“Am I- am I remember this dream?” Kiku blurred out incoherently, his cheeks burning bright red with embarrassment as more tears continued to pool in his eyes. He stared at Alfred wide eyed as he continued to tremble at the sound of the train engine wheezing and grunting. All of a sudden, there was a sharp screech that thundered through the air, making Kiku’s ears bleed profusely with hot blood. He winced in annoyance as he covered his ears with his hands that struggled to stay still on the sides of his face. Once again, Alfred laughed cheerfully and shrugged at Kiku’s reaction as if he half-heartedly expected all of this. “We’ll see. Anyway, train’s gonna stop soon, so say your last prayers before you see the world!” he joked before stepping out of the room through a hole in the wall, formed by his own inner self-conscious as Kiku inferred for himself with whatever logic that still remained in his hazy vision. He pulled the sheets aside and made himself comfortable on the bed. He pulled the blankets over his slender body and small frame and tucked himself in like how he always did for years. His attention was directed to the ceiling that seemed to be shifting to be either a dark, concrete and bare ceiling with a single oscillating white light or a cream coloured one with multiple square lights. His face became red with heat and so was the tips of his reddened fingers -- they were numb and felt cold to him, nothing new, really. He shifted his body up, resting his head on the soft pillow as he breathed heavily. The pits of his stomach churned and acid ran up his throat, burning every bit of his flesh. “Dream Master, where are you now?” Kiku mumbled, his mind drifting off further and further away from the train. The peaceful sounds of the train moving quickly along the train tracks were not what he was used to. These sounds were loud, cranky and obnoxious. Despite that, he treated them like a soft, honey-like lullaby lulling him to sleep after a busy day.

 

* * *

 

The train had been still for a while now -- a couple of hours actually, just in case no one really chose to keep track of time. Cold, hard, pin-drop silence surrounded him like a flash flood. He forced his eyes open, only to see his nightmares were all just a dream and nothing more. His heart cracked a little bit at the realisation. He stretched his arms promptly, shaking his head as he wiped the dust under his eyes away; after that, he pulled the blankets away to sit up straight, back leaning against the wooden headboard. He rubbed his head and adjusted his kimono with the two to three fingers that felt painful. “What a nice sleep,” he remarked jokingly and emptily as he stretched out his limbs, eventually regaining feeling in his limbs and muscles after the feeling of numbness. Looking forward, he walked towards the wooden door that had not been there before as far as Kiku could possibly remember through his foggy memories. Without any hesitation, Kiku’s pale hands reached for the golden door knob and turned it, unlocking it instantly. Before the door was fully opened to let the light stream in, bringing brightness back into the room of plain darkness, a piece of paper with a loose doodle of a country flag made of blue, red and white that he barely recognised formed on his sweaty palms. He held the note close to his face and he read it slowly, pleasantly pleased and surprised that it was in pretty to look at with simple straight and neat handwriting appearing to follow along neatly on an imaginary straight line. “You’re going to find a way out of here. Don’t be too timid or uptight, be you. When you find your way out, you will wake up with all of your memories about the whole incident. I’m sorry that I can’t help you forget your pain and I’m sorry that I can’t help you remember your happy memories but I will give you everything. I will give you everything. You will be okay, take your time, Kiku Honda. Signed, Arthur Kirkland.” Kiku folded the note and placed it up to his lips and breathed on it warmly. It gave him a warm, tingling feeling in the pits of his stomach once again as he confidently opened the door and placed one foot out of the door. His legs ached and felt as if his bones were grating against each other; his muscles were sore and red. One arm was extended out to keep his balance while the other was holding his head and the letter.

 

He stumbled with an awkward limp as he walked along the tiled floor of what he thought was the train station. It was dull and grey, made of neat and simple square tiles that didn’t fit but rather, they slid past each other smoothly and formed neat patterns along the way. The dark grey lamps were towering above the shorter man like skyscrapers and each one of them were just shy away from touching the edges of the rusted steel edge of the roof. Peeking through the gaps of the roof, Kiku was greeted with a painting of the sky, which was a mixture of oranges and pinks like an abstract image of what an idyllic twilight should look like. Other than the flickering lights from the lamps, there was an oversized, dream-like crescent moon hanging above him like the northern star in the “real” world or like the hot, blistering sun in the noon. He limped along the sides of the railway, following the straight pathway the train tracks gave him, even when they were covered slightly by the shadowed veil of the roof that hung above him. The train tracks were rotting away, rust cracked the metal and consumed it with time and bushes of small weeds and ivies popped up from each gap in between the metal tracks. Stones with sharp bases were scattered everywhere along the track, much unlike its original compact arrangement centuries ago, it seemed. With each unstable step that he took into this world, it seemed to appear brighter, a lot more colourful and abstract than before. In the background, the mountains were darker and clearer, even with the silhouettes of bulky rocks and trees. The stars were twinkling and acted like the pretty, colourful extras to a drama play, adding more magic to the fairytale-like scene. The sky was like a gradienting chatoyant silk, it was bright orange on one end and on the other, a subtle pastel pink that reminded one of sweetness and girlish purity. He sighed and constantly looked around, despite the urge to look forward -- towards the crescent moon that acted like a silver compass during his lost and helpless times -- and hence find his way forward. It was the only thing he could do at the moment, especially when the so-called map of this world was the only thing he could think of.

 

As he closed his eyes, he was able to taste and smell the faint traces of sweet honey that lingered in the air. They serenaded his senses, giving him moments of pure ecstasy and happiness as he navigated his way along the pink world with orange lights with stars in the sky. With each footstep that he took forward, more stars began to form and materialise like candlelights in the night sky. He stared at all of them in awe, his jaw agape in amazement at the picturesque and idyllic scene of a twilight where everything was peaceful and relaxing to the eye. It was like candy, a smooth sweet candy that was easy on the palette. This was the kind of scenes that Kiku could only conjure up in dreams and children’s book illustrations. How romantic, if only he could remember this for his literature and artworks. Tragic. He could barely remember his own name for his life, how could he even try to… How could anyone remember everything that happened if he himself could not even begin to try to. The wind that surrounded him was calming and peaceful as he strolled along the train tracks, careful to not let his foot slip in between the gaps of the metal. “What a beautiful world,” he muttered softly to himself as he took his steps forward, unsure and hesitant each time. “The stars are beautiful today, I can’t say for any other day but today is exceptionally beautiful,” he whispered as his dark eyes reflected the sea of stars hanging above him. They twisted and turned, moving behind and in front of clouds that floated along like chunks of torn cotton candy at a carnival; the sky was a mixture of oranges, lilacs and pinks. It appeared calming like a painting. Despite that, a sensation overwhelmed him, a sensation as if he was being watched and preyed upon rather intently. He gulped each time a sharp chill moved up in his spine each time he jerked his head back at the mere sound of the ruffle of a bush or a tree branch. He bit down on his lower lip constantly as he extended his arms out and wrapped them around his waist as he walked, taking large steps each time, hoping to quicken his process to get out.

 

Every once in a while, he felt sharp jabs to his body, more specifically his knees, lower back and his waist. One hand was held onto his waist while the other was extended out, keeping his balance. While biting the bullet and moving through the pain that constantly built up inside of him, a soft smile appeared on his face as his walk quickened to a sharp sprint the moment he saw the ground covered in a thin satin of dying leaves as well as some pink flower petals that were soft like silk. An empowered and bright smile extended from ear to ear as he stretched his limbs out to give his physical state a restart to continue walking forward, his feet sinking deeper into the blanket of flora and fauna. Under the moonlight, Kiku’s soft silhouette was highlighted and captured beautifully; in addition, this was also further amplified by the pink kimono that wrapped around his body, giving more life to his milk-like skin, especially with golden flowers on his shoulders. This could be due to sweat or excessive heat coupled with immense exhaustion or something but his cheeks were a vibrant shade of red that made him appeared more like strong, thick and overly colourful makeup. He sighed. He tilted his head upwards, admiring the image of a dark silhouette of the mountains in between the gaps of the trees above him. The moonlight formed tiger stripes on his face. As Kiku continued walking around and exploring for himself, he realised the twinkling stars all falling down on him like delicate raindrops in slow motion. That gave him uneasy feelings of anxiety and comfort; his cocktail of emotions simmered down to the deepest pits of his stomach and remained there like a thick storm cloud that was reluctant on moving. The moonlight was fading away and the sky was becoming a brighter shade of pop orange mixed in with some light grey clouds floating through the air leisurely.

 

Each time he was deeper in the forest, the familiar unsettling feeling continued to boil within the depths of his stomach. It forced his footsteps to be slower, much more calculated than usual even when he felt at ease making it this far on his lonesome. He explored the forest, humming an ambiguous melody loud enough to hear through the sounds of the insects’ war cries and the transition of the twilight to a dark night with warm, humid winds and more timid starlight that barely illuminated the night sky. A deeper sense of fear began to sink under his skin, his heart banging against his chest as “hallucinations” started to invade his vision and sense of direction. “Not now,” he snapped to himself as tears began to stream down his face rather quietly, like a timid stream within the country side hoping to get by without any human interference or attention of any kind. These tears were silent and awkward but they were hot -- scalding hot. They were awkward to deal with and they were awkward to own in the first place.

 

“Not today. I want to remember this dream -- I want to remember my reality. Dream Master. Please make me remember!” He demanded through his tears, which flowed freely and openly now, his small, slender frame was trembling at the winds that hugged him. Their fangs continued to pierce through his kimono and his skin, causing the lines on his face to become more awkward, more tensed. He could only weep as he groaned and soldiered through his aching joints that he attributed to “old age” as he liked to call it. “Dream master?” Kiku heard a hoarse, curious whisper that was just slightly out of his range. He gulped and jerked his head back, hoping that it would be a hallucination -- an unforeseen consequence of impending fear and absolute paranoia. As he laughed softly, a resolution formed in his head, one that would shatter his previous assumption of the dream like sleepy “voice” he heard not too long ago. He had been hoping for a while now. But that resolution was meant to be shattered as well. His dark eyes widened when they finally began to set on a man whose muscles were the most prominent thing on him, other than his features that curved with the plain love and desire for a good night’s rest under the moon and stars in the wilderness; he had deep green eyes that reflected the innocence of this world and its philosophy and simpleness. His eyes widened in surprise once they made eye contact, his eyebrows forcing itself to jump up and relax from the taut line they formed on his face. “Hello, mister…” Kiku muttered, while continuing to fan himself with his hand, his wrist inevitably weakening in strength and stamina. Kiku took hesitant and slow steps towards the man with chocolate coloured hair that curled at the ends and was longer than what he was accustomed to seeing regularly in real life. The man gulped awkwardly, clenching his right hand into a fist and holding it close to his mouth that was on the verge of opening and saying something that seemed to inevitably crush his heart.

 

“I-I, I’m just so sorry… I didn't mean to be rude or too direct for saying those things to you,” he croaked, his voice cracking at the seams as he forced himself to speak, to speak just a little more. Kiku widened his eyes in the sympathetic fashion that he was well known for as he reached a hand out. His black hair swayed with the gentle breeze that let out nothing more but a soft and tender whistle among the leaves and flowers. He smiled at the man, whose face was now covered in shocked, silent tears that flowed down his face like a shallow, narrow river in the worst drought of the summer in a long time. “I’m sorry. Just forgive me! Please!” He begged, pressing his palms together above his forehead, as if to beg for forgiveness. What a lost lamb. Kiku bit on his lip and pulled away and folded his arms as the man slowly regained his composure and sat up straight, refusing to admit his muscles were slightly more flaccid and swollen. He sighed and scratched the back of his head while getting off the branch he sat on to stand before Kiku with a bashful blush sprinkled over the apples of his cheeks delicately and abundantly. “Kiku… Do you remember me?” He asked gently, his tone sleepy and his voice sweet to listen to, much like a melody that was unforgettable and beautiful and catchy, yet her name would always slip through the gaps and escape from one’s memory. He barely found the urge and courage to manage a simple nod or shake of the head; rather, he simply stared, his cheeks bright red as his fingers fumbled with each other as the man looked at him with a broken hope, like a freshly extinguished flame trying to reignite once again. Cocking his head to the side in concern, he managed a grin and bent down to be at eye level with Kiku, a gesture that sparked many memories -- but not any main chapter of full story that he craved to know. “No, mister,” Kiku managed, his throat dry and coarse as he stopped himself from coughing up his heart. “I-I am so sorry! Please accept my apologies!” Kiku begged as he pushed his hair back with his hands, his cold, sweaty palms covering his pink eyes as he wept in frustration. The man smiled apologetically as well, while nodding in understanding at the picture of sadness in front of him. Tears flowed out of his eyes in buckets, each tear having its own little shine, its own little sparkle among its prism pink edge as they fell to the ground, leaving behind a damp spot among many other leaves and ant holes.

 

“I’m Heracles, Kiku… You were… You were someone important to me, so… You were really important,” the man spoke, his voice cracking with a simple sadness, with the urge to cry to the heavens and beg for something more than what he had now. A heavy tension hung in between them like dead weights. Kiku looked at him, distant memories floating within the gaps of his mind, they were mute movies with low resolution. His cheeks burned a brighter shade of red again as he coughed and cursed too politely. This pushed the words that he had been hoping to say down deeper into his dry throat. Acting nonchalant and lazy, he shrugged and stepped next to Kiku, with a warm, tender smile on his face that would remind anyone of pure sunshine that would come after a blistering blizzard or an intense hurricane that tore through cities with its bare hands and claws sticking outwards. He raised his arm and pulled Kiku closer, making his speech become even more incomprehensible as he constantly glanced over at Heracles in confusion. As Kiku walked forward at a speed faster than light, Heracles would hesitantly resolve to follow along obediently, just one step behind to look out for him protectively; he watched where Kiku’s footsteps would lead him and would never mutter a single word of opinion or suggestion to him, out of fear perhaps but who truly knew? Kiku glanced behind with a curious and worried expression sometimes, in an attempt to know him better. Smaller memories came flooding to him, like how the taller man would wake him up with some warm pastries or candy and that one time when he fell onto pebbles that scrapped his translucent skin and the taller would carry him home instead of to an actual doctor.  “What are you doing here?” He asked softly as a plethora of emotions rushed through his veins when he remembered more and more happy memories. Heracles shrugged and folded his arms, maintaining the way his eyes curved upwards and his features that softened and relaxed with each passing second. He looked away wistfully, pensive in his posture as he hoped to find the best answer to say. “Are you a Dream Master too?” Kiku asked, frustration rising in his throat as he forced himself to speak. Heracles widened his eyes in shock as he folded his arms defensively, his eyebrows furrowing in doubt as his headspace became immersed into his colourful, buzzard and unorthodox thoughts.

 

“Help me get out of here!” Kiku snapped, his voice not loud enough yet.

 

“Dream Masters cannot travel beyond the platforms of the trains, Kiku… It’s far too dangerous… There are ghosts and spirits on the train, you know? They’re pretty scary, too. They scare everyone away except the Dream Masters who cannot see them,” Heracles explained almost immediately and on cue, his voice hesitant and slow as he made himself look back at Kiku. His face became riddled with fear and hesitation to continue, especially when Kiku’s features froze with curiosity then lit up again with excitement upon realising the story that was on the tip of Heracles’ tongue. Kiku remained quiet and meek, patiently waiting for him to continue like a partner in an argument. He folded his arms and shifted his body weight to one foot, leaning to one side as he cocked his head to the side challengingly. He sighed reluctantly before Kiku could begin peppering him with questions that would take forever to answer. “Don’t you know? About the Dream Trains? They have a rich history to them, you know?” Heracles asked teasingly, glancing to the side awkwardly while playing with his fingers to relieve his nervousness that showed through the broken pearl necklace of cold sweat droplets flowing down the sharp contours of his face. They stopped walking at this point to take a good look at each other’s silhouettes being highlighted and softened by the moon light that made them appear like angels from heaven. The lack of words were more than enough to make them choke and his chest to feel tighter, to make breathing a tad bit more challenging than rescuing himself from the beautiful heaven he dreamt of. “What?” Kiku snapped impatiently like a child, something that came off awkwardly, his eyebrows furrowing together in anger as their eyes met properly for what seemed to be the second time in forever. “The trains -- no dream trains! What about them! Tell me!” Kiku demanded, his round face becoming a brighter shade of red, appearing like a talking cherry to Heracles who giggled at the thought rather fondly and sweetly like sugar. The sigh that came after that was sullen and somewhat empty as he stretched his muscular arms before leaning back on an invisible chair and stared upwards into the dark sky studded with white and golden stars twinkling like small, opulent and luxurious jewels studded on soft, chatoyant velvet that flowed like the clear, bountiful rivers flowing past his supposed home. “My, my, Kiku Honda…” Heracles sighed, folding his arms while being engrossed in his deep thoughts.

 

He chuckled with a soft, tender smile while rubbing the back of his neck as he leant back with his eyes fluttering closed, as if he wanted to take a quick nap. “I don’t know much so, I’ll say,” Heracles sighed while sitting down and gesturing for Kiku to do the same next to him. Like an enthusiastic student, Kiku widened his eyes and tightened his lips to form a curious smile while balling his fists up into a fist and placing them on his lap and moving them along rhythmically. Heracles laughed endearingly. “These trains are haunted. Long ago, people were building a theme park on the land we’re on now. Many died while they’re building it. It happened when most of them would be on the train tracks and eating, relaxing and having idle chatter and the trains would run over them silently, as if nothing happened at all. It was either that or they died much easier because they were too tired that their bodies gave up completely,” he explained with his soft and sleepy voice way of speaking completely sugar coated the whole scenario that Kiku had imagined. He turned his head away slowly and sullenly, nodding in understanding as he began to hug his knees, afraid the blood of the dead would get on the pinks his kimono. “I guess… At night, there were many people in some strange costumes walking around here. They look like regular people -- that’s the scary part -- they would have a face, a story, everything… They would have the charisma of a normal guy or a normal girl and you can’t trust them even if they give you their jacket full of freshly baked bread or food. But really, you can tell them apart from normal people. Do you want to know how, Kiku?” Heracles stopped his bedtime story there to glance over at Kiku with a cheeky grin that was easy to fall in love with especially when his eyes were soft and sleepy. Kiku stared at Heracles intently with a bright grin that stretched from ear to ear; a glimmer of pure childish innocence sparkling and moving along deep in his gaze as he waited for a continuation of the story.

 

“You kiss them for pure joy or curiosity but not with anguish in your heart. If they disappear, even if you desperately hold onto them with your life -- they are real,” Heracles whispered, a tear pricking in one eye as he forced a smile at Kiku.

 

“K-kiss?” Kiku asked, his eyes widening in shock as he scooted closer towards Heracles. Their noses were about to touch and so were the gaps in between their lips that were wet and tender, hoping to find something to latch onto. As Kiku came closer, with an unconscious innocence fuelling his short-term courage that burned bright in his heart like a bright candle but the effects were like a fresh downing of a shot of hard tequila flowing through one’s veins. “Why that?” Kiku asked, his voice cracking and becoming a little softer than usual as he rested his hand on Heracles’ chest with determination in his touch. His heart palpitated with excitement as his face burned a bright red. He remembered feeling his heart swell and melt like sweet, sweet candy becoming a thick mess. There was something soft in his chest, even when hard hesitation pressed down on his senses as he came closer towards him with a foggy state of mind. Heracles widened his eyes and yet pushing Kiku away from him didn’t really seem like an option, a thought was telling him -- forcing him -- to stay close to the raven-haired man and to never push him away, not even for a single second. For some reason, the thought of vanishing to become nothing more but dust particles floating in the wind like starlight crushed every bit of happiness and will he had left inside of him. He smiled endearingly when Kiku came closer towards him and he helped Kiku come closer towards him. “I… I hope you’re a real man,” Kiku muttered as he pressed his lips on Heracles’, only to find the brief feeling of pure high and ecstasy fade away when the man slipped away from his fingers like silky sand flowing through the gaps of his fingers on a warm, idyllic summer beach. When he pulled away, the space where the man used to be was now empty if not for a letter with familiar handwriting. He picked it up immediately, looking through the contents of his letter, hoping to find more information that what was just written there: “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of you from now on. Signed, Arthur Kirkland -- your real dream master.” Kiku gulped, preventing himself from shedding more tears the moment disbelief began to sink in and simmer in the pits of his stomach. He closed his eyes, crying himself to sleep as he held the letter close to him again, close to his chest as he stabilized his rapid and hectic and unstable breathing, to hear a voice converse with his heart that was mute, that was silent in his eardrums this time. He bit his lip, hearing through the white noise only to hear the tail end of the conversation all the way through.  

 

* * *

 

“Kiku… I’m sorry I just disappeared like that, would you… I mean… Would you wake up, soon? I’m… I’m just so sorry…” a familiar voice spoke out, breaking the darkness for Kiku as he cracked open his eyes to see the light. A sharp beeping noise sliced through the atmosphere, rendering him helpless as he glanced to the side, only to see the hazy figure of a muscular man with chocolate brown hair whose features emanated a sense of familiarity and charisma. Kiku widened his eyes, finding a way to let that man’s name roll off his tongue one last time before darkness consumed him again. The man leaned in closer, his fingers interlacing with Kiku’s delicate and weak ones as he held onto whatever life Kiku had left. “He had finally woken up! Two days, right? Wow, I didn’t think it would take so long for the medication to wear off…” Another voice joined in on the ensemble of voices inside his head. This one, however was clean cut and sliced through the air like graceful butter; it was like warm silky tea that was well brewed on a summer afternoon. A glimmer of light, much like the one of a firefly, constantly flashed in his already narrow field of vision, creating empty spots in the areas where the details should be the clearest. “How are you doing, Kiku? My name is Arthur Kirkland but you can just be a bloody American and call me ‘Doc’, okay?” The voice continued gently with a smile. Kiku looked up, his eyes first shifting to left, finally seeing a man of average height with dull blonde hair and hazel green eyes that sparkled with a kind, sarcastic and cynical sense and philosophy. On his right, a man with a muscular build was leaning over with worry etched in the back of his eyes. Relaxing, Kiku sighed as he looked up at the ceiling that had bright lights glaring deep into the depths of his eyes as he struggled to stay awake, even for just a few more minutes.

 

“Doctor…”

 

“You’re doing all right, Kiku, just give it a few more days and the major wounds should all be healed in no time! Now, this man… His name is Heracles. I’m sure you remember him by now; it’s complicated but I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in the long run,” Arthur replied, his smile relaxed and calming as he glanced through Kiku’s medical records that were attached on his clipboards. Kiku nodded in reply, a friendly smile appearing on his face as he naturally found his way to sit up again, with the man’s muscular arms helping him up. Arthur chuckled and bowed, taking his leave out of the hospital room. “Are you okay?” Heracles asked, his eyes glimmering with hope as they looked at each other. Kiku nodded and found himself resting his head on Heracles’ collar bone that was sturdy and soft with his honey-glazed skin supporting the side of his head. Kiku nodded once again, his face dry and dehydrated as he found the words to say to the man who was patient in his mannerisms. “I’m fine. It’s just… I’m sorry to you, Heracles… For not being too clear with my words before, I have to apologise,” Kiku murmured, a soft memory coming back. He snuggled deeper into the crook of Heracles’ neck, finding a warm and gentle sense of commitment and security each time he snuggled closer towards him. Heracles widened his eyes as he shifted back into his seat out of shock. He jumped upwards like a scared cat with frazzled and frantic eyes the moment he felt Kiku’s lips lightly press against the back of his neck. Heracles hesitantly moved a lock of his hair to the side, allowing him to see a kitten-like Kiku Honda who was desperately holding onto his waist for dear life. He smiled apologetically and nodded, stroking the back of his head as he hummed a soft lullaby that he loved as a child naturally.

 

“You don’t have to. I love you. That’s all in the past, you’re okay and take your time to tell me clearly,” Heracles laughed happily after sighing in relief as Kiku nodded and replied woozily and dreamily with a smile, "I love you too, that's why I'm sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG FOR THIS UPDATE Y'ALL 
> 
> Anyways, listen, I'll be working on either USUK or FRUK next but the second one is definitely DeNor. Unlike most days, I don't have much to say for this caption other than the fact that I'll probably do additional edits for this one shot behind the scenes and then repost them, probably! So... By the way, if I take longer to update, just blame school and my lack of creativity with these one-shots in general LOL
> 
> Still, thanks much for reading! Have a great day ahead, everyone! Byes, byes, byes, byes!


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